


Proud Papa

by afteriwake



Series: In So Few Words [91]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Annoyed Sherlock Holmes, Bitchy Headmistress, Established Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, Fights, Fist Fights, Gen, Happy Ending, Headmistress's Office, Mentioned Anthea/Mycroft Holmes, Mycroft Being Mycroft, POV Sherlock Holmes, Protective Mycroft, Sherlock-centric, Trouble, Worried Children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 17:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12869166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Sherlock is called to the school that his children attend after they get into a fight defending his and their mother's honour.





	Proud Papa

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daisherz365](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisherz365/gifts).



> This is a very belated Christmas gift for **iloveforensics** based on one of **[daisherz365](http://sincerelydayyy.tumblr.com/post/121058568910/let-there-be-headcanons-i)** 's headcanons (" _Sherlock being a proud dad when the kids don’t need him to tell off any bullies for them when they’re picking fun at them for being odd._ ").

He was looking at the twins with their black eyes, bruised knuckles and blood smears on their faces and wondering what on earth he was going to tell their mother. He knew a thing or two about getting into scuffles because of being considered odd, but he’d hoped his children would have inherited more of Molly’s good sense rather than his brashness.

Apparently, the parenthood gods had gone out of their way not to fulfill that hope.

Hamish Gregory and Mary Anne Hooper-Holmes were looking down, shuffling their feet and being nervous. He didn’t want his children to be nervous around him but they were facing the threat of expulsion so he could see why they would be concerned. And the glowering of the headmistress didn’t help.

“Mr. Holmes, as you can see, this is a serious issue,” the headmistress was saying. “We don’t condone violence on the premises. Especially when it’s over...”

“My lack of wedding certificate?” Mr. Holmes said, feeling his hackles go up. If this woman was going to even _hint_ at the technical fact his children were bastards she may soon get a beating to rival the ones his children gave, albeit verbal instead of physical.

She sniffed. “Your personal life is your own business, I suppose, but--”

“You don’t know the first thing about my relationship with Dr. Hooper,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “And if you can’t contain the children on this premises from making statements about my relationship with my children’s mother, then you’re doing a piss-poor job of protecting my children.”

The woman snorted at that. “Your children are hellions.”

“You will regret saying that,” Sherlock said, pulling his mobile from his pocket and calling his brother. Mycroft had gotten them into this prestigious school, he could find another that would take them. And it wouldn’t hurt if this woman’s life was made hell in the process. “My children were defending the honour of their parents and you, Miss. Wasserman, are the worst headmistress I have ever encountered.” He heard the click of an answer. “Mycroft?”

“A fight over your honour?” his brother said.

“Yes, I imagined you knew,” Sherlock replied. “Apparently your niece and nephew are hellions and they deserve to be expelled.”

“Over my dead body,” Mycroft said with a huff. “The boys they fought have barely any injuries aside from a few bruises and some scrapes. I saw Hamish is walking with a limp and Mary has a gash on her cheek? The boys got less than they gave.”

“I’m aware of that.” Miss Wasserman attempted to speak but Sherlock held up his hand. “I assume their parents are going to be in for a rough time?”

“Oh yes,” Mycroft said. “Now. Was it the headmistress who called my niece and nephew hellions?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said.

“Hand her the phone.”

Sherlock moved his mobile away from his ear and passed it on to the headmistress. “My brother wants to speak to you.”

Miss Wasserman glared but took the phone, and Sherlock took great delight in watching her face go from pinched and angry to pale and scared. Whatever Mycroft was threatening, it was rather big, he gathered. When she handed the phone back, her hand was shaking. “Sherlock?” Mycroft said when he had his mobile again.

“Yes?”

“It might be best if you give Molly that ring that’s been in your sock drawer since the twins were born. Ten years of shacking up is long enough, don’t you think?”

“I suppose,” Sherlock said.

“I can arrange an expedited wedding. Andrea has been planning the ceremony for years now. Bring the children around and we’ll get their measurements for the clothing. I can assure you Molly will have a dress by the end of the week.”

“Very well,” Sherlock said with a sigh. Not the way he’d wanted to propose, but he supposed it was due anyway. He ended the call and pocketed the mobile before standing and staring down at Miss Wasserman. “I’ll be taking my children for the rest of the day. Tomorrow they’ll return and things will be better.”

“Of course,” she said with some vigorous nods of her head.

He turned to his children and nodded towards the door. “After you two,” he said. They shuffled out and once he shut the door behind them he put his arms around his children’s shoulders. “The next time someone calls my relationship with your mother something disrespectful, break bones, alright? Otherwise, you did well.”

“You aren’t mad?” Hamish asked, looking up.

Sherlock shook his head. “Not in the slightest. Defending someone’s honour is one of the few noble reasons to get into a fight.” He leaned over and kissed the top of his son’s head. “Now, I need your brilliance t figure out how to ask your mum to marry me. I think I’ve waited too long for that so it needs to be spectacular. And today, because your uncle’s wife has been planning the wedding for years, apparently, and I want to actually propose.” Both his children piped up with idea after idea as he herded them out of their school. He smiled at the suggestions and knew that, even with this small bump in the road, he was damn lucky to be their parent. He loved them and they loved him, and that was as it should be.


End file.
